Welcome to PAD's flashish fic.
Stephenie Meyer owns it all.
I just want to coax her characters.
Watching You 7
The intoxicating smell of new car leather is slightly hypnotic, but I don't let it deter my mission. Without hesitation I support myself with my left hand while angling to caress his "stiffie" with my right one. I guess this leaves Edward little doubt over my intentions as he lets out an ungh at the same time he forces himself back into his seat while raising his pelvis to further meet my touch.
I increase my pressure. He's so hard. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he was carrying a nightstick in his jeans as there's absolutely no give in what I plan on taking.
He starts his car's engine, and as it purrs melodiously, my thoughts digress towards hoping I'll be evoking some similar sounds from him tonight. I clutch harder onto the stick under Edward's zipper. My action forces him to near full throttle, because right now he's clutching, too, only using a different stick to get us safely back to his gym.
This must be his lucky night, as all of the traffic lights yield their minty coloring to Edward, meaning it only takes him about sixty seconds to get us there.
"Anxious much?" I razz.
"You have no idea." He offers with little composure.
He uncouples himself from his seat then springs over the hood of his Jaguar R-Type. And if automobiles resemble their owners, then his is aptly named, because his catlike reflexes land him at my window.
Additionally, he beats me to opening my own door, as I barely get my seat belt undone. As I turn from where I'm sitting and look up and at his face, I see a hunger in his eyes I've never seen. And although I'm sure he's famished, I'm certain the look he's giving me has nothing to do with wanting actual food.
He reverently helps me up from my passenger's racing style seat and out of his car. But when I'm out and onto the pavement again, he looks at me playfully.
I swear the green coloring of his eyes has spread to his face because he plasters a Grinch-like smile over his lips before hunching down and grabbing both sides of my waist.
Effortlessly, he hikes me over his left shoulder and conveniently places his hand over my butt to hold me in place. His right hand is free to unlock the front door and disarm the alarm.
Once inside, though, he places me down on the carpeting and actually looks a bit sheepish over his brazen display. This positively will not do, considering it was his, initial, brazen display that got us here in the first place.
"Bella, are you still okay with us here, or would you rather go upstairs to my place?"
It's not news to me that Edward owns this building or that he dwells in it, too. But it would be too easy to just give in to him dragging me up into his lair. If he wants what I have to offer, he needs to work for it. Besides, I know the layout down here and feel a certain neutrality amid the machinery.
"Here will be just fine."
I sense by Edward's gulp that he feels like a visiting team even though he should clearly be asserting a home court advantage. His darting eyes, perspiring brow, and wringing hands indicate he's even more worked up than I had originally thought. I assuredly want him to be a different kind of worked up, so I need to intervene.
"Bella?"
Before he can question our intended action, I grasp his hand and guide him through the darkness. I'm his seeing eyes without canine senses, but somehow I manage to sniff my way to the corner with the bench where all of this began.
My wine buzz, hitting me with full force now, speaks.
"Show me what you've got, Cullen, and give me what I came here for.
A/N:
Now who's brazen?
Who has the control?
Review me your thoughts.
Thank you goes to my stupendous beta, Chayasara.
Thank you for reading.
PAD
